


A Dark and Stormy Night

by DapperSheep



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Implied Bloody Mary/Red Wine/Steak, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17346695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperSheep/pseuds/DapperSheep
Summary: Just as it says on the tin.





	A Dark and Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

> Crack treated seriously, so don’t take it seriously.
> 
> A (maybe) standalone fic. Just a little something for all you wankers out there. You know who you are.

 

It was a dark and stormy night.

 

Well, it wasn’t as dark and as stormy as Spaghetti wanted it to be because he could _still hear them through the walls_ and honestly, it was getting tiring to have to put up with this bullshit every other night since they started getting along. And that was stretching what ‘getting along’ actually means in this context.

But it was tonight especially that sent him over the edge and just this once, he wasn’t going to sit around and let them do as they pleased.

The hallway outside of his room was dark. Master Attendant was probably stuck in the guildhall because of the heavy rain that swept over Gloriville a few hours ago and that had also been the same reason that power had been cut from the neighborhood. The only source of light was from the occasional flash of lightning or one of the Food Souls incapable of seeing in the dark brought a lamp with them. Or they’re Hotpot.

With the clamor earlier during the first minutes of the blackout, it sounded like almost everyone retreated downstairs. If anyone had resolutely stayed in their rooms on this floor, then they have earned a sliver of his respect.

Spaghetti stepped out and, with determination only reserved for the battlefield, began marching down the hall to Steak’s room.  It was a bad idea, but Spaghetti had no chill in this moment and the thought of kicking down the horned Food Soul’s door and interrupting his session with Red Wine sounded very appealing right now.

And then he tripped.

To be fair, he was one of those Food Souls who couldn’t see well in the dark. At least there wasn’t anyone nearby to hear his undignified squawk as he fell and hit his face on the floor-

“Ow! Who the hell...?” That sounded like someone. Spaghetti inwardly cursed.

“Who stands in the hallway like a bag of trash?” He asked, bracing himself as he stood up from the floor.

“... Spaghetti. I’d recognize that stupid posh tone anywhere.” The redhead rolled his eyes, already familiar with the dry tone he associated with Red Wine’s shorter companion.

“Ah, Gingerbread. Had you been sitting or are you shorter than I remembered?”

“Haha. That’s funny, Spaghetti.” She said wryly and there was a telltale crack of a knuckle before Spaghetti felt a fist punch into his side.

She didn’t hit that hard. And she missed by a long shot if she had been aiming for something else. It still hurt though.

Spaghetti hissed out a breath and grabbed blindly at the shorter Food Soul. He managed to grab what was the top of her head and pulled hard, earning himself a pained hiss from her.

“I do not discriminate, commoner.” He said in a warning tone, bending low to whisper that in her ear.

Whether it be a cosmic joke or a well-timed intervention, it was just as the air sizzled with the summoning of their weapons that Red Wine or Steak chose that moment to let out a very questionable sound and thus jarred the two would-be combatants from an unnecessary fight in their home.

There was another muffled cry, a dull thump and the very concerning sound of something breaking from behind the door before there was silence.

Even though they could barely see each other in the low light, Gingerbread and Spaghetti could feel each other’s eyes on one another.

“Are they finished?”

“Spaghetti, it’s like you don’t live here. You think they’re finished?” She made a good point. If anything, that was probably not even foreplay.

The rush of a fight passed over Spaghetti. Reluctantly, he released her and asked, “What _were_ you doing before I arrived?”

“Thinking of breaking the door down and giving the two a piece of my mind.”

Spaghetti paused, looking in the general direction of where Gingerbread was standing. At least someone agreed with him about this.

“You were thinking of the same thing, huh?” She said smugly.

“What made you think I wasn’t on my way downstairs?”

“You hate everyone and everyone else avoids you.” Gingerbread answered without missing a beat. He reconsidered stabbing her with his fork but he refrained from doing that.

In any case, he should put a stop to these two before they start with the despicably lewd noises again and his own imagination ran off in a different direction than what the sounds intended. But before he could raise his hand and summon his weapon again, he felt a hard tug on his cape.

“Hey, let’s make a bet.” She said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I do not like the sound of your tone.”

“Either you or I bust down that door and interrupt their little sword fight or we take a bit of fun out of it.”

“Convince me. Why should I let the commoners continue like wanton rabbits and disrupt my peace of mind?” He asked in the same low voice.

“I dunno. Blackmail? Something to hang over their heads when they piss you off in the future? And if you win, you can get me to do something. Just don’t make it about murdering people. You know that’s not going to work with our contracts.”

That… that didn’t sound half bad. He knew he shouldn’t, but curiosity and the promise of having someone owing him overrode his common sense. Letting out a loud sigh, he replied, “I’m aware. So what are we betting on?”

“Easy. Who do you think’s going to finish first?”

It was a crude thing to bet on but he can’t deny the appeal in the simplicity of it. Besides, this _was_ good blackmail material considering how anal the two were about being better than the other in the most mind-boggling ways. They didn’t want others finding out either, which just made this all the more exciting.

Fine then, he was convinced.

“The stake is Fallen Angel maintenance duty, take it or leave it.” Spaghetti said, a sinister smile creeping on his face. It was a chore a lot of Food Souls strived to avoid especially with the Fallen Angels who did not have a Food Soul assigned to them. No one wanted to clean up after rambunctious, bitey Enhances or stab-happy Spectras.

He was no exception, but he’d done very well thus far to trick someone else to take on the chore up until now.

“It’s a deal.” Gingerbread said confidently.

The game was on.

  


“It has never occurred to me before how they are unable to hear us talking. The door isn’t that thick.”

Seated beside him, he heard the pint sized Food Soul sigh. “Spaghetti. The moment these two hone in on each other for a fight, it’s tunnel vision.”

Gingerbread spoke words of wisdom. And most of the time when the two were publicly fighting, there was always Mary to be the unneeded mediator or the Master Attendant-- then again, the two would sooner die than actually make out in public.

This was another grain of truth.

“I raise the stakes to three hours. The vampire finishes first.” Spaghetti said after they both heard a series of muffled moans from the bedroom. They kept their voices low, just in case the two did catch on that they weren’t alone on this floor, or that they have attracted attention.

"Oh _please_ , Steak hasn't been getting any action since last night, he's gonna be first. I raise you four hours."

“Do their positions matter, by the by?”

“Do I look like I make it a point to know who tops or bottoms?”

"Fair point, but I am calling it now by how loud the vampire is losing himself, he's going to be first.” Spaghetti scoffed. Between them, the conversation died. The strong patter of rain against glass and the distant boom of thunder echoed down the hallway, mingling with the clearer sounds of lovemaking behind the door.

It was Gingerbread who first spoke up. “I’ve been curious, Spaghetti. Do you really have to call everyone by anything but their names unless you’re trying to make it a point that they’ve annoyed you?”

There was a creak and another thump as Spaghetti thought over the question seriously.

“Yes.”

“No wonder everyone hates you. How do you even survive?”

“I eat their grievances for breakfast, lunch, high tea and dinner.” He replied dryly.

 

_“Ngh~ah!”_

"Which one was that?"

"I can't tell, too shaky of a moan." Gingerbread spoke. “Damn, that didn’t sound like Red Wine.”

"It's not as deep, so it can't be Steak." Spaghetti pointed out.

"Oh, it's Steak alright. You have a good ear, Ginger honey."

Spaghetti would never admit that hearing that silky voice too close to his ear sent a shiver down his spine. And not in the good way. In fact, he almost punched the owner of the voice if he didn’t have an image to uphold. And that image dictated he didn’t throw punches in the dark no matter how satisfying that would be.

"Mary,” He gritted out instead while shoving the other away roughly, “how long have you been eavesdropping?"

"Since you started betting, nood darling. And ooh, that is quite a lovely sound. Mhm~ I wish I can get Red to moan like that for me. Pity." There was a note of wistfulness in Mary’s tone but the sentence overall made Gingerbread snort and Spaghetti scrunch his nose in distaste.

".... I don't want to know how you're able to decipher whose is whose." He remarked scathingly. Bloody Mary only chuckled airily in reply.

"Raising the stakes to ten hours that Steak finishes first, Spag." Gingerbread deftly returned the topic back to the two.

Spaghetti clicked his tongue. “Such confidence, and yet I’m fully committed to Red Wine. Twelve hours.”

“Are you now, darling?”

Spaghetti ignored him. The sounds behind the door were reaching a crescendo, almost harmonizing in rhythmic staccato at one measure before shifting to andante for the next then back to allegro, and yet the notes remained constantly played in fortissimo.

… And did he just really describe the two rutting in musical terms? Tierra forbid he’s actually reached a different level of desensitizing.

“Sixteen hours that both finish at the same time.” Bloody Mary offered, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“You’re not part of this betting pool. And cease your questing hands, Bloody Mary, or I will stab you.”

Mary pouted. “Someone’s very touchy tonight.”

Gingerbread laughed somewhere behind Spaghetti, now that he had to fully face Mary in the low light. “Oho, when can I start betting on you and Bloody Mary?” She asked cheekily.

“That is an impossible scenario and do not encourage this shameless harlot on trying to pander himself out to me.”

 

_Slap!_

 

“I take offense to that, Spaghetti.”

“You really have a way with words, Spag. Too bad it’s usually not for flirtatious purposes.”

“Can we please get back to the matter at hand?” Spaghetti growled out, rubbing his sore cheek.

Suddenly, the lights in the hallway flickered back to life. Somewhere downstairs, there was a raucous cheer as power was restored to the house. That didn’t stop the sounds from behind Steak’s door, and the three Food Souls in the hallway waited with baited breath as the moans reached the climax and there was a loud outcry.

And then there was silence.

“... How can we tell who finished first?” Spaghetti asked, eyeing the door. Beside him, Gingerbread shrugged. But it was Bloody Mary who stood up and approached the door. Spaghetti could see now that the Food Soul wasn’t in his usual dress and was just waltzing around in his signature bathrobe.

“Easy.” Bloody Mary flashed the two of them a knowing smile as he turned the knob and the door quietly opened without any sort of resistance.

“You mean to tell me they fuck without locking the door?!” Gingerbread blurted out in shock.

“Oho~ Looks like I win.” Bloody Mary crowed happily as he peered inside.

“I told you, you aren’t part of the betting-”

“WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS?!”

That sounded like Steak. And he sounded very, _very_ pissed. Spaghetti made a split second decision and quickly stood up, pushing Bloody Mary inside and closing the door shut.

“Scatter!” He hissed at Gingerbread who didn’t need to be told twice.

“We’ll decide in the morning!” The shorter Food Soul said in parting before they took off in different directions.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It started out as an idea spurred by a motive, and eventually just became a drabble for lolz. Thank you to my beta reader for brainstorming with me.


End file.
